“Well Mr. Kim?” queried Commander Stark. “Planning a hunting trip, were you?”
“Yes, of course!” Mr. Kim snapped back. “This is Alaska—everyone hunts here.”
“Well,” Stark replied. “We have a problem then. You see, it’s illegal to hunt with night vision equipment or with radios. Not only that, but according to your visa, you have only been here eight months, which is four months short of the time required to get a resident hunting license. According to our records, you don’t have a tourist hunting permit.”
“You cannot arrest me for having these things. This is America. I am allowed to have them.”
“Well, yes and no.” Stark took the rifle from the SERT officer and examined it. “Can I see your class three firearms license please?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your class three firearms license, sir,” Stark repeated. “You must have one—these are fully automatic weapons. While the US and Alaskan governments do allow almost unlimited ownership of firearms, fully automatic weapons require a special permit. If you cannot show us such a permit—well, why don’t you go get it for us?”
“I…I appeal to the Korean Consulate.”
“What?” Wyatt choked back a chuckle. “Mr. Kim, you are not here as a diplomat. You are here on a business visa. There is no diplomatic immunity for you.”
Stark smiled politely at the man and said, “Take him in, Wyatt.”
Trooper Wyatt quoted his rights. “Mr. Kim. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, the state of Alaska will supply one for you.”
She reached with one hand to her belt for her cuffs and put the other on his shoulder. “Please turn toward the wall and put your hands on your head.”
As she pushed his shoulder with her hand, the older man suddenly spun and grabbed her wrist. He shouted in Korean. “Aniya! Get your hands off me, woman!”
He turned so fast, she feared he might twist her arm off. Instinctively she moved with the man’s grasp, spinning in the direction he had twisted her arm, and grabbing the back of his shirtsleeve with her free hand. She tumbled forward. Her weight and momentum took him down with her.
Before Kim could recover, she had rolled completely over and righted herself into a sitting position, pinning his arm to the floor. He struggled against her grip and tried to gouge at her left thigh with his hard, thin fingers. Wyatt raised her right leg and came down hard on the back of his head. A thud resounded through the room and signaled the momentary end of Mr. Kim’s conscious thought.
The other troopers and policemen in the room stared at her in wide-eyed shock.
“Whoa, Wyatt,” someone mumbled. “You go, girl!”
She looked up at them and said, “Hap Ki Do—Tae Kwon Do’s meaner, more flexible cousin. I’m a third-degree black belt in both.” She smiled flirtatiously. “Keep that in mind, fellas.”
“Duly noted,” replied one of them.
“Man, don’t let her teach that to my wife,” said another.
She looked up at them and said, “Now, will a couple of you studs take this man downstairs for me, please?”
Two of them complied and lifted the unconscious Mr. Kim, carrying him down the stairs to the medic. He was placed on a gurney under restraint and rolled outside into an ambulance.
As Kim was being carried out of the room, an officer who was searching through a closet in the back of the room called out. “Hey, check this out. What in the world do you think this is?”
He pointed at the floor of the closet at a pair of two-inch thick, square metal boxes. Each had a numbered keypad and a round handle in the middle that was flush to the surface. The officer reached into the closet to pick one up.
“Stop!” Another SERT officer shouted. “What’s the matter with you? That thing could be a bomb!”
The officer reflexively pulled his hand away. He stood, then backed away from the devices.
“Oh, crap!” He sounded suddenly nervous. “It does kind of look like a land mine, doesn’t it?”
The officer who had sounded the warning keyed his radio. “7-4, this is SERT-Alpha 1, we need to evacuate the building. There are what appear to be two bombs, possibly land mines or some kind of IED up here in the bedroom closet.”
“Got it, Alpha-1. Let’s get everyone out. I’ll call the bomb squad in.”
Within seconds, the house was empty, and minutes later, the police had formed a perimeter of vehicles around the building. Several officers went door-to-door, evacuating all the houses for a hundred yards on either side of the Kim residence.
The Explosive Ordinance Disposal Team had been on standby, a standard procedure when SERT deployed. It only took ten minutes for them to arrive on scene. Two bulky figures in full body armor got out of a panel van and strode heavily into the house like giant armored turtles.
Trooper Wyatt stood by her cruiser, talking to one of the officers as they inspected the weapons that had been found in the room.
Commander Stark called out, “Wyatt!”
“Yes, sir?” She turned toward his voice.
“Get over to the hospital. The guy who was shot with the beanbags is talking, but doesn’t speak English. See if you can get anything out of him.”
“Yes, sir.”
She handed the AK assault rifle back to the other officer, got into her patrol car, and left for Fairbanks Memorial Hospital.
Chapter 17
It was ten forty-five when she pulled her cruiser into the space marked “Police Only” near the emergency room doors at the hospital. She got out and walked quickly into the ER through the door reserved for police and emergency
